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“In the depth of night, something woke
him. He listened for a few moments, all his senses alert. Then he
heard it again. Smothered, suppressed moans.
Danielle.
He was out of bed in a heartbeat and ran to her room, grateful that he had
decided to wear pajama bottoms. He had been right, he realized as he came
closer, the moans were now more audible. When he reached the door, he pushed it
open, hurrying to the bed, where Danielle lay, again tossing and turning as she
had that afternoon.
He clicked on the bedside
lamp, sitting down on the edge of the bed and taking her in his arms. Why
take her in your arms? he rebuked himself. Just shake her awake, give
her a glass of water. But he couldn’t bring himself to do it.
She sighed deeply, then seemed to realize that she was in his arms, and
hugged herself tightly to him. “Oh… Miguel…” she breathed against
his chest.
“Would it help if you told me the bad dream?” he asked, deeply concerned
for her. She moved slightly closer to him, and he felt her body
tremble against his.
She seemed suddenly to realize that
things between them had gone horribly wrong, and she tried to withdraw a little
from him, saying, her voice unsteady, “It’s such an unhappy dream. I’m in a
fog, and I don’t know where I am, and I can’t find you. Miguel….I know you
don’t want this, I know you hate and despise me, but please…”
He interrupted her, and said quietly,
“No, Danielle, I don’t hate and despise you, but you lied to me, and I can no
longer trust you. And, without trust, what is love? Only sex. Even so, I
think we should declare a truce and try to live at least agreeably. But I
interrupted you. What were you going to say?”
Despondent, she whispered, “I
was wondering whether, out of sheer kindness, you could possibly stay…?
It’s such a big bed and I promise I won’t disturb you. It’s just that
when I know you’re here, then the nightmare doesn’t come…” \
Danielle – don’t
do this to me—I don’t want this. But already he was hurrying to the
other side of the bed, getting in, stretching out his hand to her. She
gratefully took his hand, breathing, “Oh, thank you, Miguel… you’re so
good to me…” She bent forward and briefly touched her trembling lips to
his fingers.
She awoke in the morning,
her stomach churning, and hastily threw back the duvet so that she could hurry
to the bathroom. As she glanced back, she realized that she was alone in the
big bed. I know Miguel was here… He woke me from the nightmare, and then I
asked him to stay, and he did. Well, perhaps he just stayed until I fell asleep
and then he…
She quickly hurried into the
bathroom and was, again, very sick. When it was over, she was grateful that
Miguel had been spared this. She went again through the now-familiar ritual of
rinsing her mouth, brushing her teeth, gargling with a pleasant-tasting new
mouthwash. She stood by the basin, none too steady on her feet, and drank some
water. Drained from all this activity, she slowly crept back to her bed and
fell into it.
Surprised, she heard
Miguel’s footsteps on the hall’s parquet flooring. Moments later, he entered
her bedroom, carrying a tray with a cup of weak, fragrant tea that had a thin
sliver of lemon floating on top of it. There was also a rack of dry toast. He
waited until she sat up, placing the tray across her thighs.
“Of course you didn’t. I
woke up at about seven, and although you weren’t having bad dreams, you seemed a
little restless, and your stomach growled, so I thought perhaps if I could bring
you some tea and toast quickly, I might be able to stave off yet another attack
of being sick? But unfortunately I was too late.”
Quickly, she said, “Miguel…
that happens every morning, don’t you remember, Bill said that’s how it is, but
it gets better after a while. It isn’t an exact science, of course, but by my
own reckoning I think I’m probably three weeks pregnant. And apparently this
sickness is bad only in the very beginning. Maybe I’ll be lucky and it’ll soon
get better or be over?”
He noticed the cloud that
seemed to come over her eyes, and he realized what she must be thinking… ‘I’ll
be lucky…’
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